I limbered up the dirt road as the suns last rays slouched through the bare trees. The thatched roof of the old inn, in great need of repair, was a sharp contrast to the majestic
As my fingers wrapped around the doorknob, I hesitated to enter. How would my wife feel about this? What of my daughters? Are they too young? I have no choice, I told myself decidedly as I turned the knob with a new sense of duty and direction only to be sunk by the two sweet faces that presently came running up to me as I stood in the doorway. Their dark eyes and rosy cheeks, the very vision of their mother’s could melt even the heart of pharaoh. With my two daughters wrapped around my knees, I felt the warm loving hand of my wife reach around my neck and draw my face in near. She is like a flower that blooms all year long. Neither the brisk winds of autumn or the icy cold snow of winter could fade her beauty or resoluteness. Her grandfather fought to keep this valley and these roof-top mountains in the hands of patriots like himself, and the same thick blood ran through his granddaughter’s veins. Surely she of anyone would understand? "Darling, come," she pleaded. "I have something to show you." The girls grabbed their coats as if on cue. She led me briskly through the kitchen, grabbing a basket of hot biscuits, and led us all straight through the back door. We walked down the stony path through the gardens and past the meager rows of corn before I was able to catch my breath. "My dear, what is the meaning of this?" I spouted. "I’ve been hiding this from you far too long, darling. You must trust me; come on we’ll stop to eat later," she assured me.
The view ahead was spectacular: the sun was dripping behind the mountains ahead splashing hazy colors across the sky. The girls skipped along like a pair of butterflies dancing through the tall grass as together we headed toward the base of the mountain. I thought back to that late afternoon when the girls were first birthed. It had been a rare day indeed. The midwife had been standing by for hours wiping the heavy drops of sweat pouring down my wife's brow as she struggled with the labor pains. For one brief moment, the groans stopped. I, listening from the other room, peered in anxiously to see what was the matter when I noticed both my wife and the midwife looking curiously out the window. When I stood to get a closer look, I witnessed the moon eclipse directly over the sun and all at once the world was dark and quiet. In that very moment, the cries of my first-born daughter Luna could be heard. And in the very next moment, as the moon ceased to breach the light of the sun, so did Luna’s shining sister Sol break forth from her hiding place. And as for my wife, her joy was made complete and with a sigh of relief she looked lovingly into her daughters’ eyes, beaming as Hannah did unto her long awaited son.
As I looked up my wife had stopped just at the base of the rising incline of the mountain. She was unfolding the blanket she had resting under her arm and beckoned me and the girls to join her on its protection from the undergrowth. I sat down gingerly by my wife, touching her arm only softly as she began unrolling the biscuits and handing them to the girls. "My dear, I have something to tell you." My words sliced through the stillness awkwardly. "Oh darling, can’t it wait." she retorted, with a sudden sharpness in her voice. She continued, "I’ve been trying to tell you this now for weeks, but I didn’t know how you would take it. I know how much you love this valley, and I do too. But, the risk here is too great and I think it’s high time we close in on this mountain we have so often gazed upon and surmount it." I followed the direction of her hand as she pointed to the grassy knoll peppered with tiny rocks leading up to the base of the mountain and the rocky trail beyond leading sharply upward. "My great grandfather traveled down this mountain a hundred years ago to begin a new life here in this valley. It was to be for him and his descendants a place of wonder and excitement, peace and comfort. And it has been all these and more for us. But, those days are coming to an end. He wouldn’t have wanted to see the valley in the hands of brutal heartless men, and neither do I. I’ll be damned if I watch my girls grow up under the harsh rule of a dictator who believes that the world is better off without mercy, love, and forgiveness. That a person’s worth is better measured by the color of their skin than by the character of their heart. Lead us up this mountain, darling. Lead us into the future that awaits. Lead us from the danger that ensues. Or, by god, I will lead myself and our young daughters on my own." Oh God, I had thought my news would crush this young wife of mine. But her spirit was even more emboldened than I knew. "My dear," I began, "I had no idea you had such plans. I would have thought that like your ancestors, you would want to protect for this precious land which was so carefully and dangerously sought out." I paused and went on, "I had planned to tell you when I arrived home earlier this evening of my decision. I will join the local armies banding together to fight this ruthless dictator." The urgency in my voice was rising. My fear of her response only making my words more brash and resentful. "I will not allow the bones of your ancestors to be spat on as we turn this valley to our backs without a second glance. I will stay ---" Just then, my words were drowned out by the explosion resounding from the East. I looked behind us to see our shed going up in flames as the loud shrills from my daughters filled my ears. The wishes of my wife would be abruptly granted as in one breath I grabbed Luna in one arm, Sol in the other, and ran fiercely up the hill. My wife followed only a few paces behind having grabbed the food basket and blanket, our only supplies for the long journey ahead.
Years later, I recalled that dreary evening sitting in a lonely pub far to the West of the rising peaks. The Paranians had moved in sooner than we thought, sooner than any of us in the valley thought, and our only hope was to flee. The owner of the pub pulled up his stool beside me, furrowed his eyebrows, and leaning in, commented in a low voice, "’ar ye a’right, chap? If I di’dnt know any better, I wou’ave guessed ye got the ‘ole heave-ho."
Staring into the empty mug below me, I thought about how I had never heard truer words. Yes, I had gotten the ‘ole heave-ho. I had been hurled from everything I ever knew and loved. Our valley of bubbling streams and mountain fortresses was now only a dream. And, the rugged mountains had claimed the lives of my praised wife and beautiful daughters in the months of harsh conditions that followed that late autumn day. Who could have known that the dangers we would come to face in those mountains were only a reflection of those we left behind. And, now all I could do was travel west, putting those wretched mountains behind me. I had had the wrong impression all along: Our weather-beaten thatched roof held all the majesty I could have hoped for and it was the mountains that paled in comparison. Yes, now I concerned myself with one thing only: to travel west. Hoping that if I travel far enough west, I will reach the east. Until then, the unfading flowers and the dancing butterflies keep me company.
